Braincamp
by miranda0
Summary: This takes place shortly after "Ability". What if someone decided to make a whole army of children using a substance similar to Cortexiphan? What if Peter Bishop was one of those children? Spoilers now through "There's More Than One of Everything."
1. Chapter 1

_Ed. Note: As usual, everything except for Emily McManus (and Grace, her sister) and Robert Delevan is owned by the happy Bad Robot people. I reserve all rights to Emily McManus and all her happy iterations. For the record, I wrote the original Braincamp thing back in 1996 or so. I just mapped it, rather conveniently, onto the Fringe universe. I must say, it really does converge rather nicely_

"Agent Dunham?"

Olivia looks up from the desk in the Lab space to see a small blonde woman looking at her. "Can I help you with something?"

The woman enters the room, closes the door behind her. "I'm not sure. You see, I'm—"

"Hey, Liv?" Peter opens the door abruptly.

The blonde woman looks to the door at the sound. Incredulity seeps into her blood. "Peter?"

Peter's face morphs as long-repressed memories surface. "Emily? Emily McManus? Or is it Grace?"

He finds himself swept into a long, breath-winding hug. "It's Emily. Grace is… well, she's busy on the west coast right now." She peers up into Peter's face, steps back to behold him. "I was told you were dead."

This causes Peter to laugh. "Nope. Very much alive." He, too, surveys Emily with interest. "I haven't seen you in… it's been over 25 years, hasn't it? 1983… I was only 6 when we went to that camp together." He looks over and sees the passivity on Olivia's face. "Sorry. Have you been introduced? Emily, this is Olivia Dunham, Agent with the FBI. Olivia, this is Emily McManus. She and I went to a special camp for brainiacs back in the day."

Emily reaches around Peter for a shake. "Actually, it's Agent McManus now." She and Olivia shake, looking up at Peter's face. "Sorry. I have a problem and I need your father's help." She looks at Olivia. "This involves you too, Agent Dunham."

Emily takes a deep breath as she heads into the Lab proper. _Peter's alive. And I am going to have to speak with my own personal Dr. Frankenstein._ She looks over at Astrid Farnsworth, the very able and likable Agent assigned to help with these cases. _If Agent Farnsworth knew half of what I know, would she be able to even be in the same room with him? Would anyone?_

Before she even enters the room, she feels the contradiction beginning in her mind. _The child-like mind inside the genius—or is it the other way around?_ She looks over at Walter Bishop, sitting contentedly eating what appears to be the remnants of a Banana Split, ice cream still decorating his upper lip. _The man who gave me my life… hard to say what I should do to him_

"Walter?" Olivia's voice cuts through Emily's thoughts. He reflexively smiles up at her. "Walter, this woman here says she has to speak with you about something called Operation Braincamp."

Walter's eyes fix upon Emily, and the smile does indeed fade, replaced with a gamut of emotions, from remorse to fear to… "You went to Braincamp with my son. You are one of the McManus twins."

"Emily," she acknowledges, nodding.

"You survived the cure, then." Walter says this as if this is not completely incongruous. "I was hopeful. You both had such a unique endocrine system. I was very hopeful," he repeats.

Emily sighs, nods again. "We need to talk about that time, Dr. Bishop. They are mounting Braincamp again, and you have to stop them."

Walter looks to Olivia. "I'm going to need something very good to eat. Roast Beef dinner would be nice."


	2. Chapter 2

"Who are 'they', precisely?" asks Olivia as the four of them sit around a table at the local café.

"It's hard to trace it back far enough to figure out who 'they' are. But suffice it to say that David Robert Jones is one of them." Emily picks up her fork, and looks at it. _ Ironic, isn't it, that the man responsible is the only one that can stop this. It's not just full circle—like F. Paul Wilson says, it's spherical. _She looks back at Olivia. "They need an army, and they don't have time to incubate them, like they did with you."

"Incubate them?"

"Whatever they are calling the compound these days, the one you were exposed to in Jacksonville, Florida—I think you know of it as Cortexiphan. I call it the Braincamp compound because that's where it was perfected, for all intents and purposes. But it takes time to incubate in the host, preferably when said host is in puberty, and the process takes about 10 years before the host matures enough to use the new neural structures."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You don't have to worry. I have higher clearance than most people, Agent Dunham. But I knew long ago that you would be targeted. You, your sister… we have something in common." Emily looks at Walter, wistfully, then turns her attention back to Olivia. "Do you remember ever hearing about Braincamp? It was Reagan's American in the early 80s…" Emily's brain remembers all too well:

It was Reagan's America in the early 80s, and the Cold War was in its full height. An idea was devised to propel technology forward, as we did with the atom bomb, to ensure that our ideals would win out. To do that, this country would call on its best and its brightest, its future scientists. It would send children ages 10-14 to a special camp in New York City called Braincamp, where these cream of the crop would spend 6 weeks a year learning from the most cutting edge research scientists into the expansion of the mind.

It was also the blackest of operations.

The researchers, those "above board", had no idea that the funding for Braincamp came from special CIA funds. Nor did they know that specific compounds were introduced into the diet of the children. These researchers, those who would have to put on the very good "public face" of Braincamp, only worked with the children in the morning. They spent their afternoons collecting and collating their research, while they were told that scientists were teaching the children.

That was technically accurate.

Said scientists were working on what could only be called "Fringe science", however. The children were divided into 5 groups called "bunks" and each had a designation: Bunk Alpha, Bunk Beta, Bunk Gamma, Bunk Delta, and Bunk Omega.

The goal of each Bunk during its afternoon "exercises" differed. Only Bunk Delta did not participate in those activities: they were the control group. They did work on science-related projects and things related to higher math during their afternoon sessions. Other Bunks had to do things with their minds, or at least attempt things, not unlike Olivia's recent "test" by David Robert Jones to "turn off the lights".

"His little test kit you got? It was designed for Braincamp," Emily finished.

"Yes, but who designed it?"

Emily looked over to where Walter was spooning mashed potatoes in his mouth. "Walter Bishop did."


	3. Chapter 3

Walter looks at the two women, spoon still waiting outside his mouth. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Apparently yes, but not recently," Peter injects. "You were somehow involved in this whole Braincamp ordeal."

Walter finds himself putting the spoon down. "I had forgotten about it until I saw Ms. McManus. Yes, Braincamp."

"Wait a minute." Peter looks across the table to Emily. "_I_ went to Braincamp and we were in the same Bunk—Bunk Omega. Why don't I remember that kit or having to do anything with my mind—other than really, really hard math?"

Emily, to his surprise, looks to Walter. "Do you remember enough to tell him, or shall I?"

Walter sighs. "I am afraid I would miss far too many details. I only remember why they took Peter, what was asked of me." He looks down at his half-eaten meal. "I am much clearer on what took place after the ordeal."

To Peter's surprise, Emily reaches over and takes Walter's hand, looking him full in the face. "Dr. Bishop, I forgive you, and so does my sister. If that makes up for anything."

Walter wipes at his left eye with his free hand. "It does. Thank you."

Emily looks back at Peter. "We always wondered why you were there, Peter, because you were too young to be. Remember, Braincamp was for children ages 10-14, in the blush of puberty, and you at the time were barely 6. Well, the government had tried to mount Braincamp in 1982, but were less successful than they would like to be with the outcome. So they traced a line back to the most successful Fringe scientist on the planet and asked for his help."

"They found Walter."

"Yes. And when he found out what was going on, he flat refused to help."

Emily looks evenly at Peter, waiting for him to figure it out. "I was collateral?"

"No, son, you were _insurance. _You were the insurance policy to make sure that whatever I did, I wasn't going to sabotage their plans by purposefully making things that didn't work. They put you in that horrid place because of me, and I am very, very sorry."

Peter's face takes a look of deep confusion. "But I loved Braincamp, Walter. Yeah, it was really hard work, all that science and math stuff, but I learned a lot and I made lots of friends. I never once thought it was horrid." He gives a short little laugh. "I always thought it was really cool."

Emily continues to look evenly at Peter. "Have you ever looked up anybody at Braincamp who wasn't in Bunk Delta?" At the shake of Peter's head, she continues. "From Braincamp '83, there are approximately 79 current survivors."

"But there were 250 of us!"

Emily nods. "Maybe you're starting to see the bigger picture. Only Bunk Delta has a really good survival rate—48 of the original 50 are still around. The two deaths weren't natural causes—both died at the hands of terrorists in the 9/11 attacks."

"So of the other 200 kids, only 31 are left."

"And two of them are at this table," notes Olivia. "Is there any relevance to—"

A phone begins to ring, and Olivia recognizes it as her own. "Olivia Dunham."

"_Agent Dunham, meet up with the Bishops and bring them to the Playground at the corner of Prince and Snow Hill."_ Broyles ends the connection.

"It's already started, hasn't it." Emily's tone is statement, not question.

This unnerves Olivia, who merely nods. "We've got to go to the Playground at the corner of Prince and Snow Hill."

"I'll meet you there." Emily stands and heads for the door.

"Wait," Peter says, catching up with her at the door. "I'll come with you."


	4. Chapter 4

As Olivia drives down Cambridge St., she cannot help herself as the questions well up within her. She looks over at her passenger. "Dr. Bishop, Nina Sharp told me that Dr. Bell was the one who came up with Cortexiphan, in 1981."

"Yes," Walter concurs. "Belly did create the Cortexiphan. But it wasn't working visibly at that point—quite frankly, it wasn't designed for immediate results. It was designed for results that would take decades to see properly. The people in Braincamp desperately wanted something that would work immediately."

"Which is where you came in."

He nods. "They were hoping that I could provide them with something with a more rapid rate of brain increase. Something that granted results within their 6 week time period."

"Did you succeed?"

Walter chuckles, looks at the buildings as they pass by his window. "I'm not sure what you could define as success, Olivia, in this case. Did I give them something that did what they asked? Yes, I did. Did the children involved show immense and rapid brain growth, particularly in neural connections? Yes, they did.

"I was unaware of the apparently unnatural deaths of most of the test subjects, however."

"You mentioned a cure when you first saw Emily McManus. Did the cure have something to do with the compound you created?"

"Well, yes, in a way it did. All the children were reporting headaches and other basic ailments. I agreed to help the McManus twins if they would keep Peter safe." He looks over at Olivia. "I knew their father. The twins were taken for reasons not unlike Peter's. He and I made the agreement: they would protect my son, and I would 'undo' whatever damage those awful men were using my compounds to inflict on those poor children."

"Do you think you could undo whatever the Cortexiphan has done to me?"

Walter merely looks over at Olivia, confused.


	5. Chapter 5

When Olivia arrives at the Playground, she is startled to see many children, all grammar school aged, with blood around their nostrils and apparently dried up in their ears. She makes a beeline for Broyles. "What happened here?"

"Lunch," comes the response from behind her. She turns to see Peter, standing next to Walter. "Emily said you have to ingest the compounds in food."

A few children are unaffected, standing huddled near a woman whose continuous crying has turned her nose and eyes red, but from rubbing, not blood. Olivia eyes them as she turns back to Broyles. "How long ago?"

"These children fell ill approximately an hour ago. When the ambulances came, we immediately got the call." He looks to the ground in disgust. "63 children dead. And whomever Emily is, she's right." He indicates the surviving children with an incline of his head. "The only difference in these children, according to one teacher, Ms. Miller, is that they brought bag lunches from home." He holds up a hand at Olivia's next question. "We have secured the cafeteria staff except for one man." He looks to the notebook in his hands. "Robert Delevan. Charlie's already trying to track him down."

Walter looks up. "Might I have a body transferred to the lab? I could have more answers there." He continues to prod the tissue near the nostrils of one boy.

"Don't you need to worry about contamination or something?" Peter asks, looking at his father's ungloved hand.

Walter does not look up. "Son, if we're right about this, the compounds are only able to work on children. The adults in question might find themselves with a minor headache, nothing more. But you're right—I'll grab some gloves from the car."

"Don't bother," Emily pipes in, handing him the gloves as she walks toward Broyles.

Broyles, for his part, manages to control his look of shock. "Agent McManus. Washington didn't tell me we were going to be graced with your presence." He nods around them. "I'm assuming this is the reason you are here."

"I wanted to speak with Dr. Bishop directly."

"I see." As Broyles gazes penetratingly at her, Olivia feels as though she is suddenly witnessing a discussion without words, so forceful is the eye-lock between the two. "I want Agent Dunham to be the lead agent on this case, understood?"

Olivia half-expects Emily to salute in response, but she merely nods, lips pursed in thought. "I presumed as much. That's why I went to the lab instead of the Federal Building." She looks over at one of the children on the ground, walks over to a small girl with long blonde hair, kneels beside the body. "Oh dear. This is Alexa Harrington. She was going to be their shining star in all of this."

"What do you mean?"

Emily looks back up at Olivia. "She was exposed to Cortexiphan at age 3. I would think that they targeted this school for her specifically, hopeful that the cumulative effects of the newer compounds with the Cortexiphan would work a miracle."

"How do you know all of this?"

Emily sighs. "Braincamp is my life—following the survivors, looking for any signs that any of the compounds have been used on children." She stands, looks toward Walter and Peter. "I am an FBI Agent, yes, and I mostly do work that is not involved in Braincamp, but I try to make sure that those who are trying to build an army get recruits who are willing, who are not made and trained before their significant free will kicks in." She looks to Olivia now. "Granted, you were not given a choice about your exposure, but at the very least you have a choice now to use whatever gift you have in any manner of your choosing."

"Who makes the other compounds? I mean, I know that Cortexiphan was part of Massive Dynamic since Dr. Bell created it. Who would have the technology to make whatever did this to these children?"

Peter walks up to them before Emily can formulate a response. "Walter's ready to go back to the lab."

Olivia hands him her keys. "Go ahead. I'm going to ride with Emily." Her phone rings again, and she eyes the incoming number. "Hey Charlie."

"I'm at Robert Delevan's last known address. Delevan isn't here, but you might want to come see this for yourself."


	6. Chapter 6

Olivia walks into a run-down warehouse, experiencing yet another déjà-vu moment as she sees table after table of chemical sets, materials titrating into one another through a maze of tubes and Pyrex. Piles of different crystalline substances lay near each set.

Charlie walks up to her. "Have any idea what's going on here?"

Olivia continues to survey around her, noting the dilapidated conditions as she sees something sticking out from beneath the cot. She walks over, pulls to find a sheaf of typewritten papers. "I think this will tell us." She looks through them briefly, recognizing the indelible pattern. She waves them at Charlie. "ZFT."

"We have the team taking samples from everything we can get our hands on." Charlie shakes his head. "Some of this stuff looks straight out of Dr. Frankenstein."

Olivia nods, notes Emily staring intently at one of the materials. "That's Agent McManus. She's helping us with this case."

Charlie looks to Olivia, slightly startled. "Agent McManus… as in Broyles' former boss?"

"What?" Olivia returns his gaze, then looks back over to where Emily is now gathering small samples of the crystalline substances. "I thought that…"

"An Agent Emily McManus was Broyles' boss five years ago, down in D.C. Apparently some really bad stuff went down. She was removed from supervisory capacity for some major oversight. Broyles got promoted, and that was that. I figured she'd left the Agency entirely."

"She said she tends to only work cases like this one, that have to do with something called Braincamp. You know it?"

Charlie shakes his head. "Not much, really. Some super brainiac thing done back in the 80s. I was told it didn't work."

"What if I told you that both Agent McManus and Peter Bishop were part of it?"

This elicits Charlie's raised eyebrows. "Ain't that a small world."

"It gets better. Apparently, Dr. Bishop indicated that he had 'cured' both Emily McManus and her sister of something that relates back to their days in Braincamp."

"I've collected some samples that we need to get to Dr. Bishop immediately." Emily's sudden presence beside the two agents startles them. "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

Olivia shakes her head. "No, but you go on back to the Lab. I want to go back to the Office and investigate our pal Mr. Delevan a little."

Emily pales. "Did you say Delevan? As in Robert Delevan? You didn't mention who we were coming after in the car, only that it was the only cafeteria worker unaccounted for."

"Why?" Olivia recognizes the important moment when she sees it. "What's so important about Robert Delevan?"

Emily slumps, finds herself sitting on the abandoned cot. "Five years ago, I stepped out of line to help a friend of mine named Scott Frewer. We knew each other from way back to 1983, to our days in Braincamp. He was on the run, and he needed a new identity. So against protocol, I went ahead and created one for him. He thought that people were trying to use him in ways that were unethical—at least, that's what he told me, and I believed him."

"And you created a new identity named Robert Delevan."

Emily sighs, nods, then looks Charlie dead in the eye. "That's what earned me my 'demotion'. I presume you were filling in the blanks for Agent Dunham?"

Charlie manages to give a momentarily sheepish look before regaining most of his composure. "I did tell her about your past with Broyles, yes."

Emily waves a hand dismissively. "That's ancient history now. Better to get it out in the open." She looks around with renewed eyes. "How long would you say he's been here?"

"No longer than three months." Charlie looks at his notepad. "Owner says he rented three months ago. Paid a year's rent upfront and in cash."

"Somebody's bankrolling him," Emily muses. "He barely had two nickels to rub together five years ago. And with what he was doing here, I'd say that the bankroll is pretty thick." She stands, looks at the sheaf of papers still in Olivia's hand. "ZFT?"

Olivia nods. "That's what it looks like, yes."

"And you were made to think that. My guess is that Delevan planted them here."

"How can you be sure that he has no involvement with ZFT? A lot could have changed in five years."

Emily shakes her head. "Agent Francis, when you set up someone with a new life, you have to get to know them, at least a little." A pause. "He wanted me to find this, to know what side he's on."

Olivia sighs. "I keep hearing all this talk of 'sides'—from Mitchell Loeb, from David Robert Jones, and now from you. What sides are we discussing here?"

"I can't tell you what sides they are referring to, but I'm referring to the fact that my old friend decided that he was going to play on the side that is all for making more monsters out of children, of robbing them of their lives." She stands suddenly. "Go back to the Office if you must, but it's imperative that I get these compounds to Dr. Bishop, and quickly, before any other innocent people get harmed through this."

Olivia shakes her head. "I think I'll go back with you." She looks at Francis. "You'll tell me what you find when you get back to the Office?"

He nods. "You got it."


	7. Chapter 7

Olivia wastes no time as she walks back into the lab. "What can you tell us, Dr. Bishop?"

Walter wears his headlamp, looking down into a pan that has the contents of the unfortunate victim's stomach within. "Not much yet, but if Ms. Mc—I mean, Agent McManus is right, I'll be able to tell you within the next hour." He begins humming a familiar yet disparate theme.

Olivia looks over to Peter, who is sitting next to the microscope. He formulates a response to her unanswered question. "Holst's _The Planets._ I think we're up to Mars."

Emily brings her crystalline samples over to Peter. "I'm going to need to analyze these. Would you mind if--?"

He smiles. "Be my guest." She dons a lab jacket and begins to put one of the crystals into a beaker, affixing it over a Bunsen burner. She turns and hands him the packet of dusty rose crystals. "I could use some help."

"Right." Peter begins the same process with this set of crystals.

"You think that these are the substances we're going to find in these children." Olivia tries to give the two some space within their section of the lab, leaning over the railing from above.

Peter looks up at her. "No idea." He turns his head to the side. "You?"

"I think we'll find some of them," Emily replies, fixing the safety glasses on her head. "I'm more interested in the ones that we won't find in their bloodstreams. Were they aborted attempts or are they something else entirely?"

"Why would he risk this?" Olivia asked this question in the car, but did not get a satisfactory response. Indeed, Emily seems in some respects to be just as out of balance as Walter. "I mean, he'd been working on those compounds for at least a month. He clearly thought they would work. What went wrong?"

"There was a contaminant. That's what yields the results we saw at the park, playground, whatever." Emily studies the green crystals as they slowly begin to disintegrate into liquid.

"Normally it's due to impatience," Walter chimes in. "The critical compound in the Braincamp materials cannot be accelerated with a catalyst. I suspect he used simple rock salt as a catalyst and it had the deleterious effects we witnessed today." His face takes on a slightly harder look. "Almost identical to the rat studies we did before that terrible summer."

"But normally catalysts have no effect on the end result." Astrid looks from Walter to Olivia. "Right?"

"Yeah, normally," Peter responds absently, noting the color change in the crystals, from a dusty rose to an elephantine gray as they liquefy. "But sometimes if you are dealing with compounds that aren't as stable as, say, your typical minerals, a tiny speck of dust is all that's needed to completely ruin your experiment. Rock salt could have decimated the compound's better qualities."

"You speak from experience." Astrid knows better than to pose it as a question.

Peter's grimacing smile tells it all. "Many times. Mostly with the chemistry set my father bought me when I was eight."

"Well, if this guy was so smart—he did go to Braincamp, after all—then wouldn't he know that?"

"I would think you are right, Olivia, but sometimes we forget the simplest of things when we are under undue pressure to give results." Walter smiles wistfully in her direction. "My guess is that, in all of the excitement and pressure, he simply forgot to not use any catalyst. Most unwise."

"How long does it take without a catalyst? Or at least, how long did it take back in 1983?"

Walter tilts his head in memory. "I think it took four weeks, all told, to complete the last step. The first ten or twelve steps took less than four altogether."

"So why rush it? I mean, he paid for that warehouse for a year in cash. He could have just sat back and waited. No one knew he was there." Olivia shoots a pointed look at Emily, who is oblivious to it. "So he had plenty time to get it right." Her phone rings, and she answers it without thinking. "Olivia Dunham."

"Hey. We just found Robert Delevan's body—or at least a body that matches his description." Charlie sounds defeated.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey. We just found Robert Delevan's body—or at least a body that matches his description." Charlie sounds defeated.

"Where?"

"Not 2 miles from the warehouse. He was in an auto accident, but he would have been dead anyway—there's blood coming out of nearly every hole in his head."

As if she heard this news directly, Emily's head snaps up. "They found his body already?"

Olivia nods at her. "Charlie, can you bring the body over here to the lab? I'd like Dr. Bishop to take a look at it before the local coroner can move in."

"Sure thing."

Olivia disconnects, then looks at Emily. "You're not surprised."

Emily shrugs. "He screwed up and was a loose end. Car accident? That's the usual M.O."

"Well, yes, but Charlie said that he was dead already; blood coming out all over his face apparently. I wanted Dr. Bishop to determine the real cause of death."

Emily's face becomes a mask. "He doesn't have to. I can. That's why he was in such a rush; he knew he'd succumb."

"To what?" Peter looks up, suddenly interested.

"I never got a chance to explain why so many of us Braincamp survivors are dead." She looks at her experiment, satisfied that it is "cooking" properly. "Each bunk seems to be dying of something different, but I'm pretty sure it all has the same root. He was Bunk Gamma. They get it bad. Bleeding everywhere—eyes, nostrils, mouth, sometimes ears, even the rectum. Someone is trying to make a cure or something that will slow down the progress, but basically the blood system within the body explodes."

Walter drops the stomach contents onto the floor. "What did you say?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Bishop. I was hoping you wouldn't have to find out from me. But yes, something degenerates neurologically that causes massive damage to the circulatory system."

"But we took every precaution about that potential side effect." Astrid manages to get a chair underneath him before he drops completely. "We got around it."

"It's only happening to some of the survivors this way," admits Emily. _Please, don't ask about the others, the elaborate measures some have taken to ensure their own deaths._ "I honestly think that this subset has been exposed to something else, something that triggered the side effect within its dormancy." _And please, please Walter… don't ask me how I know that._

"What could do that?"

"Someone who wants to 'activate' the Braincamp survivors. We did some incredible things back then." She looks around. "Any X-Men fans in the room?"

Astrid slowly raises her hand.

"Okay. So you know the Stepford Cuckoos?"

Astrid nods. "It's a set of multiples—I can't remember how many girls they started with, but let's say there were 5 identicals—that alone have very little power but together their power increases exponentially." She notices Olivia's slightly bemused expression. "My brother was a big fan."

"Right. I think that someone out there thinks that the Braincamp survivors are like that: alone, pretty harmless, but together, they could literally move mountains."

"Yes," Walter chimes in, remorse still tingeing his voice. "Originally it looked as though no one had any significant power separately, but together the things I was shown were, indeed, extraordinary."

"So you gather all these survivors together and you get what? Your own personal psychic hotline or something?" Peter can't believe it. After all, he's a survivor of this thing too, but all he can remember are good times and a lot of really complicated equations.

Walter looks a bit scornfully at his son. "Not like that. But you could have the power of a nuclear bomb." At Olivia's disbelieving reaction, he nods his head. "Yes, Olivia, that powerful. I am not exaggerating. I saw some of the results."

"Why has no one heard about this until now?"

"For the same reason that no one heard of the Ghost Network or the ability to talk to the dead," Peter muses. "First of all, who would believe it? And second, if you had that kind of power, why would you want to share it?"

"So, someone wants to reintroduce Braincamp into the world. Why now?"

"Why did David Robert Jones ask you to pass a test now? It's a critical juncture in our history. Apparently someone thinks we are going to need that kind of power, that kind of weapon, and that someone isn't afraid to exploit children to his or her ends." Emily places her head in her gloved hands. "I'm sorry. My blood sugar is dropping."

Walter suddenly stands up. "Ms. McManus, I'm sorry—I had forgotten, after all these years. Of course." He goes to a cabinet, comes and hands her a granola bar. "Try this."

Emily can't hear him. Peter catches her before her head hits the ground. Olivia races around, but Walter waves her away. "It's nothing serious. She suffers from a particularly rare problem with her pancreas. She's like a diabetic—if she forgets to eat or doesn't eat enough, she will have an insulin reaction, like this one." He places a bit of the granola on her tongue. "She'll come right back around."

Sure enough, Emily's eyes flutter open within a few moments. "Asteroid, would you please fetch me some of Gene's milk? That would likely be best for our patient."

Astrid rolls her eyes. "I wonder if I should start calling him Dr. Biscuit. Maybe he'll get the message," she mutters under her breath as she goes to the refrigerator. As she heads over, she sees something blinking on her computer. "Peter?"

He comes over to her. "I was looking into Robert Delevan's financials, just to see if something made sense or connected. It seems that he was given $750,000 through a dummy corporation about a year ago. That dummy corporation seemingly ceased to exist… until yesterday."

Peter cocks his head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it was called Intuit Pharma and it was a pharmaceutical company. Backtracking its data a year ago proved that it was just a holding company—everything about it was faked. But apparently someone just decided to move more money through it." She taps a few keys. "The tracer program found an IP address in Switzerland…" Astrid trails off. "No way."

"What?" Peter scans the screen to find the source of incredulity. "These people aren't that stupid. No way."

"Not stupid, but also not as smart as we are." Emily joins them, leaning heavily on Walter for support. "I wrote that tracer program to jack into the security cameras. It would only tell you after the facial recognition software kicked in."

"Where was this taken?" Peter looks at the photo.

"The location of the IP address—look back two pictures and you will see him at the computer in question." Astrid manipulates the keys to confirm.

"You're right, Liv—that's him." Peter looks at Emily. "We're sure that's the computer that matches the IP?"

"The program is designed to match user to computer, so if this is our flag, then yes."

"No way." Peter looks back at the screen. "I don't believe it."

Clearly visible on the screen is a grainy picture of a man. Next to him is the facial recognition software indicating his name—Daniel Hager—as well as his present title.

Vice-President of European Marketing, Massive Dynamic.

Emily smiles at Olivia. "Time for a trip."


	9. Chapter 9

"Dr. Bishop? Before we go, might I have a word?"

Walter looks into Emily's eyes and knows he cannot maneuver his way around the truth. "Of course, my dear." He follows her obediently into Olivia's makeshift office. "You're not coming back from New York, are you?"

A smile of pure delight crosses her face. "You know, for a guy who is supposed to be mentally unstable, you really are quite brilliant. No, I am not. Once I enter the room with Nina… well, it will all be over but the shouting, as they say."

Walter can only nod in response. "Your secret is safe with me, Emily. Or at least, I hope it is. I do not intend to give it away."

"As I intend to not give yours away." The unmistakable image of Peter as a boy crosses in his mind, unbidden, at that moment, followed by the image of Peter as a grown man. "I don't blame you for what you did about Peter. I'm sorry that we couldn't save him. Despite everything, you held up your end of the bargain." She tilts her head. "You kept a very tight lid on all of this. We're grateful."

Again, Walter feels his head nodding. This woman can undo everything, all the years of difficulty to protect his one genuine secret. His heart pounds unbidden in his ribcage. "I told you, Walter, we aren't going to expose either one of you. Just promise me that when he needs to know the truth, you'll handle it better this time around."

Walter smiles despite himself. "I'll do my best."

Emily reaches up and kisses him on the cheek. "We'll be in touch."

*******************************************************************************

"It's alright, I can handle it," Nina says, moving forward from her desk. "Agent Dunham, it's a pleasure to see you again. As I told you over the phone—"

"Sit down, Nina." Emily's voice rings with command. Olivia has a strange compulsion to suddenly sit down herself.

Ms. Sharp, for her part, steels herself for a moment, tries to speak, but finds herself sitting back down in her chair. "Very well. Agent McManus, you understand that it isn't fair to not play by the house rules."

"I certainly should, since you never do."

Olivia finally does sit down opposite Nina. "Ms. Sharp, while I know it might be unseemly, we have reason to believe you were employing a man by the name of Robert Delevan."

Nina shakes her head. "That name isn't familiar to me."

Emily slaps her hands on the top of the desk, forcing her torso down so that she is eye-level with Nina. "And I thought I was damn clear the last time we spoke that you are to never, ever, lie to me again."

Nina has the grace to look a little scared before regaining her steely composure. "I do not appreciate your tone nor your presence."

Emily suddenly stands upright, turns her back to Nina. "Do you enjoy playing Chess, Agent Dunham?"

"I'm familiar with the game."

"Sometimes I think that this whole world is in an elaborate game of Chess. Behind that desk there sits the Black Queen. Make no mistake; while Ms. Sharp garners more fondness for you than she would ever let you know, she is not exactly on the side of everything that's fairy tales and roses."

"And you, Agent McManus, make me look like a child playing in a park," Nina retorts.

Emily shrugs. "Perhaps I do, some days. But I'm not a queen, just a pawn." She pivots back around, puts a hand into a pocket to retrieve a small device, roughly the size and shape of a cell phone. "And in case you need more reminders that I'm not on anyone's side and that I will not tolerate your lying, I'm going to give you a taste of what I can do."

Nina manages a triumphant smile here. "Your personal 'Doomsday' device that you tried to implant? I had it removed less than 3 hours after you last saw me."

Emily nods. "That's nice. So you found the one I intended you to find then? Good. I was worried there might be leakage."

Nina's face twitches slightly.

"The real item is, of course, long since part of your basal ganglia. It's made of brain matter, and it's seamless. I suspect if you attempt its removal, you'll stop most of your autonomic nervous system right along with it—your heart, lungs, liver, kidney functions would simply cease to operate properly." Emily makes a show of shaking her head. "It would be awfully rough to live without those, now wouldn't it?"

A sliver of genuine concern touches Nina's eyes.

"I'm glad to see that you are starting to understand me. But just in case you don't…" Emily flips open the black case and hits a button within.

Cascades of electrical charges seem to flow from every capillary of Nina Sharp's body. It lasts for less than a full second. Her body falls to the floor.

"Not pleasant, is it?" Emily flips the case closed.

Olivia hears Nina groan and attempts to stand up to help her. "Don't bother, Agent Dunham. The Black Queen will right herself soon enough." She tucks the device back into a pocket.

Olivia looks at Emily in disgust, runs over to the other side of the desk to help Nina stand, then to ease her back into her chair behind the desk. "What are you?"

"I am only what she made me. Isn't that right, Ms. Sharp? After all, you were the one who decided that the remnants of Braincamp should be salvaged, to be utilized, to become your personal psychic army."

Through gritted teeth, Nina says, "Not you. We never did anything to you."

"Maybe so. But you can hear the thanks of my fellow survivors anyway in my actions." Emily sneers. "My work here is done. You were the one who supplied Scott Frewer free of charge with the raw materials, just to see if anything could be done to perfect the Braincamp process. A case of 'takes one to make one'?" She looks into Nina's eyes, a sharp gaze that bores into the executive. "Well well. There's some genuine fear that they will find out that it's true. I am pretty good at sussing out the truth, and I want it from you now. Or shall I remind you again?" She pats her pocket for emphasis.

"That's why there's deniability."

"Ah." Emily nods. "The truth, at last. Well, consider this to be your official 'cease and desist' order courtesy of the United States Government." She lays down a sheaf of papers on the desk. "Just a friendly reminder—any activity that looks like Braincamp, and I have a court order that allows me to seize any and all files that may be related to Braincamp."

"That's blackmail! You don't have the right to—"

"Don't you EVER tell me what I do or do not have a right to!" Olivia looks at Emily and sees the fire—or is it madness?—in her eyes. "It's people like you, like Walter Bishop, like William Bell that stole the lives of children whose only crime was _potential._ And if I think you are going to continue along this path, I will come back and personally ensure that your company will only be good for manufacturing vacuum cleaners."

"I will personally inform Dr. Bell of your threat."

"You do that. You tell Dr. Bell that I look forward to finishing that last scintillating conversation we had. Does he still have difficulties when he travels?" Off Nina's dropped jaw and suddenly pallid complexion, Emily waves to Olivia. "I'll let you two finish up. I'll be in touch."

As the door clicks behind her, Nina looks up to Olivia. "Thank you. Your presence probably saved my life."

Olivia continues to gaze at the closed door. Despite Emily's obvious hatred of Nina Sharp, it is equally obvious to Olivia that she really could have killed Nina and didn't. "I don't think so. I suspect she wants you to live with any responsibility you have about the deaths of those children." Olivia's eyes focus on her. "And for the record, you have never had any contact with either a Robert Delevan or a Scott Frewer?"

"I have had contact with Scott Frewer. It was over 10 years ago now, but he worked for a while for Massive Dynamic. He left his position and we haven't heard from him since."

"And what position did he hold while he was here—for the record?"

"He was one of our best research chemists."

Olivia's eyebrows raise. "What happened?"

"It was my understanding that Mr. Frewer got a better job offer to work for a large oil manufacturer. I have not seen nor heard from him since."

"And Robert Delevan?"

"I know of no one by that name."

Olivia mugs a moment, then nods. "Oh, one last thing—was Agent McManus telling the truth? Did you try to put the Braincamp survivors to work for you?"

"I'm not exactly sure what you mean, other than the fact that Mr. Frewer was also a member of that group." Small tingles of electricity suddenly appear in Nina's right arm. "She shorted me out, I'm afraid." She looks to Olivia. "Agent Dunham, I am asking--could you get the device away from her?"

Olivia shrugs. "I don't think that Emily McManus is just going to hand over that device. I know that if I had gone through the trouble she clearly has to hold power over you, I would not give it up blithely." She looks down at Nina's limp right arm. "Will you be alright?"

Nina waves her left arm a bit impatiently. "Yes, yes, of course, I'll be fine. I'll go down to R&D later today to have it refitted properly, any remnants of that surge removed." She picks up the documents with her good hand. "Are these legal?"

Olivia nods. "I'm afraid so. If you really are experimenting on children, I will have to join with Agent McManus in taking you down." She gives Nina one last warning look and heads out the door. "Good day, Ms. Sharp." Outside the office, walking automatically to the car, her thoughts tumble within her own brain. _What really happened in there? What, exactly, is Emily McManus? Did we shut down the next generation of Braincamp here, or just delay the inevitable? _

As Nina watches the door close behind Olivia, she uses her good arm to procure her cell phone. "It's Nina. That little bitch was just in my office with Olivia in tow. That goddamn Doomsday device you warned me about wasn't the one we found. She can electrocute me—fry me in an instant! It's not right…"

"Nina, you know better than to come to me with any problems you may have with Emily. And you never know—that so-called 'Doomsday' device might actually have multiple uses, one of which might just save your life someday. You know how Emily is."

"Oh, fine, Phillip, you always did have a soft spot for her."

"Not a soft spot," corrects Broyles, sitting at his desk, looking at the Eyes Only Classified case file on Braincamp. "A very, very smart spot." He flips a page in the file to a picture of 10 children standing in a circle who appear to be levitating a large wooden desk. Clearly visible in the picture are the faces of Emily, her identical sister, and one small boy who bears an uncanny resemblance to Peter Bishop.

_Ed. End Notes: I should tell you that everything in this file related to Peter Bishop was written before I saw the last three episodes of last season (and the first of this season). What I wrote was based entirely on my intuition… it seemed fitting to make more mystery around Peter. Turns out that was a good bet. _


End file.
